


Miscellaneous Works

by Redawilo



Series: Main Stuff [5]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Other, Rating subject to change, warnings subject to change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-16
Updated: 2018-02-08
Packaged: 2018-12-16 01:24:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 22,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11818275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redawilo/pseuds/Redawilo
Summary: A collection of my one-offs and other things that do not have a category of their own. Check each chapter for further descriptions.These are all different original works of mine!Updates sporadically.





	1. Tael & David: Leaving for a Month

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tael and David settle down to rest for the night, but David has something he wants to tell his beloved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This first entry contains spoilers for Six Spirits. Read at your own risk.
> 
> Extra tags/warnings: m/m, fluffy

The fire crackled softly, sending a thin column of smoke into the air between the decaying branches of the trees. The desolate earth of the Deadlands spanned far and wide just a few feet away, beyond the edge of the tiny rotting forest on its northern edge. Even though it was miles away, the rancid smell of the swamp would occasionally waft over on a light breeze. To David, though, it smelled like home and served to calm him.

It had been months since he had left the small church that had taken him in after the orphanage had become too decrepit to live in. In that time he had traveled all over the nearby countries. First the vast desert to the south, and then the volcanic island not far off its western coast. Then the great, widely unexplored forests to the east, and finally recently he had even been to the tundra to the far north. He hadn’t been alone however; at least, not alone for the entire trip. In the desert he had unexpectedly run into a group of adventurers, one of whom he had known in childhood, and explored an ancient pyramid with them. Later, those same adventurers rescued him from the depths of a volcanic cavern. About a month later when he was feeling up to the long voyage to the forests, he was surprisingly joined by his oldest and dearest friend, Tael the city fairy, and had stayed with him since.

Tael was currently sitting across from him on the other side of their modest campfire. He had put together an assortment of the herbs he always kept on hand and was brewing them into a tea. David had no talent for what he was doing, and at first it came as a surprise when Tael knew that his concoctions were ready simply by their smell. Now it hardly fazed him when he saw the fairy carefully lift the tiny kettle from where it sat near the fire. He poured its contents through a little strainer and into two awaiting cups. He took both in hand and moved around to sit beside David, handing the angel one of them.

“Here, it should help relax your muscles and do something about the pain in your hand.” He said as he sat down.

“Thank you.”

David took a sip, finding it almost too bitter for his liking. From the corner of his eye he saw Tael’s face scrunch up in dislike as well when he swallowed a mouthful. Neither said anything about it and continued to drink in the comfortable silence that often fell over them. What Tael said turned out to be true. David could feel his muscles, sore from their long travels that day, relaxing and with them the stress seemed to leave his body as well. The dull throbbing from the fresh wound on his palm also began to subside.

“So,” Tael began, breaking the silence as he set his empty cup beside him and leaned back on his hands, “now that you’ve been all around the countries here, which one do you like the best?”

David gave him a small smile. “Define how you mean ‘like’.”

The fairy shrugged. “I dunno; which one do you think you would want to spend more time in?”

“Let me think… The forests are still greatly unexplored even by the elves and fairies. I would love to be able to see and record every inch of them, and I expect I could spend years doing so. If we are talking which I would care to settle down in, I believe I would prefer somewhere such as the desert. Such vast expanses of nothing remind me of here in the Deadlands, but without the foul stench coming in on the winds from the swamp.”

“Don’t give me that! You like the smell of the swamp just as much as I do, as gross as it is.” Tael chuckled. “It’s part of our childhood and our home.”

Again, David cast him a soft smile. Tael was right, he really did not mind the smell no matter how bad it got. Most people who grew up in the Deadlands would agree, in fact. Others may say the area is uninhabitable even at the furthest reaches of the dead expanse of land simply because of how badly the stench got at times, but there was a reason why the most popular tavern in the region lied at the very center of the swamp.

David finished what was left of his tea and Tael put both of their cups aside to be cleaned up later. A breeze blew by them, and despite the warmth of the tea and the fire, David felt a chill run down his spine. Tael noticed. He got to his feet and retrieved a blanket from his bags. He sat down beside him again, but much closer this time. David’s face lit up pink, and only got darker as the fairy drew the blanket over both of their shoulders.

“That better?” he asked playfully.

David could only smile and lay his head upon the fairy’s shoulder. “It is. Thank you.”

That Tael wrapped his arm about David’s waist took him by surprise momentarily. After thinking about it though he found it silly that he would find such a simple gesture to be something to be shocked about. Tael had become plenty affectionate as of late, more so than David had ever dared to dream. No matter how he looked at it, confessing to Tael in a feverish bout of bravery had been one of the best choices he had ever made. After that the fairy had never hesitated in getting close to him, in hugging him gently, and in kissing him sweetly. To snuggle close to him beneath a blanket in front of a campfire should definitely have been within the realm of what had become normal for them.

It pained David greatly to speak again. Not because he wanted to preserve the quiet between them, but because he knew what he had to say might hurt Tael, if even only a little bit.

“Tael, I’ve been thinking. Grande Mondo is a large, beautiful place and I have greatly enjoyed traveling across it, but…” The fairy cast his gaze curiously to the angel leaning against him. “I want to try exploring other lands.”

“You mean alone?” Tael asked him.

David nodded softly. “I do. Do not get me wrong, I have loved every minute of our travels together, and I would do it all again in a heartbeat. But truly this has all been very much like a dream. First seeing you again after all the years we have been apart, then running into you not once but twice more in the desert and even exploring that pyramid built by ancient angels together, and then meeting in the volcano…” he blushed again. “And my confession…and everything after that… I can hardly believe everything has been real. So I would like to go to a distant country and see what it has to offer. I would like a chance to see the world and grow on my own; to come to terms with everything that has happened to me as of late.” He brought his left hand up and held it in front of him, inspecting the expertly wrapped bandages on it. Tael gently took hold of David’s wounded hand and rubbed his thumb delicately across David’s fingers.

“I don’t like the idea of leaving you alone while you’re still so careless with your blood magic.” He stated bluntly.

“I was afraid of that. If I promise not to use it, would that put your mind at ease?”

“Not in the least. I don’t believe you would go without your blood magic, especially if you find something interesting that you can’t decipher by reading normally. If you want me to feel better about you being on your own then tell me you won’t be gone long.”

David sat up enough to peer into Tael’s eyes. The genuine concern the fairy held for him within those purple orbs alone was incredibly endearing, and David couldn’t help but nuzzle once more against his shoulder and neck.

“In that case, I will only leave for a month. Thirty days and I will be by your side again. How is that?”

Tael gave him and his hand a light squeeze and laid his head against David’s. “That’s better. I’ll try not to count the hours until you come back.”

“What will you do while I am gone, out of curiosity?”

“If I told you that I’ll probably take up a job of unloading ships at the port you are due to return at, would you find that creepy or adorable?”

David chuckled softly. “As long as you do not try to steal something from them again, I would love for that to be the case.”

The two shared a quick kiss, and following Tael’s gentle coaxing, laid down beside the fire together. Tael carefully slipped David’s glasses off his face and set them down neatly beside their discarded cups. Instead of his shoulder, David now buried his face against the fairy’s bare chest. Tael caressed his back tenderly, placing a few light kisses to his hair as well.

“Then after a month, I will be expecting you to be waiting at the docks for me to return, my beloved.” David whispered.

“I’ll be like fair maiden waiting for her husband to return from the war, my friend.” Tael said in a teasing voice and laughed.

“I think you would fit the role of ‘husband eager to see his wife again and show her the home he has made for them while she waits in the old country’ far better.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Either way, you’d better tell me all about what you’ve seen on your travels when you get back.”

“Of course I will. I only hope you will be ready to listen to me talk on for hours.”

“Always.”


	2. Mary Had a Little Lamb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A young university student undergoes a popular new procedure for the sake of research. The results are surprising and help to path the way for the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This entry probably does not make a whole lot of sense on its own, but I can almost guarantee that some day in the future it will have a hole lot more importance. For now, try to enjoy it for what it is.
> 
> Extra tags/warnings: half-human half-animal creature, there is no bestiality involved

Once upon a time there was a young lady by the name of Mary. Mary was at the point in her life where she was just getting her wings of freedom. She was out from under her parents’ roof for the first time, and like most young people was eager to explore every possibility now open to her.

One day Mary caught wind that a research lab at her university was looking for volunteers for a recently-popular subject of study. Curious, Mary attended a short lecture where the lab explained in better detail what they needed volunteers for and what said people would be subjected to. They asked for those still interested in helping to fill out and submit several different forms within a week and that they would contact those volunteers they were interested in with more details later. Mary felt so eager to help them conduct their research that she had her forms submitted the very next day.

Two months later when she had nearly forgotten about the whole thing, Mary received a phone call from the professor in charge of the lab. They spoke briefly and Mary was scheduled to go in three days from then. When Mary was allowed to leave the lab again a week after the phone call, she had no idea that the experiments done to her would yield the results they did. Sure, she was hoping they would be successful, as it would mean a huge step in the field had been taken, but she had not expected everything to turn out so well.

Only a month later and the lab confirmed the best possible scenario: Mary was pregnant! Elated, Mary and her friends celebrated. It was not the first time the artificial insemination had worked, but every success brought the human race ever closer to the lab’s ultimate goal.

Mary then began to get regular check-ups, and each time was delighted to hear the good news that the fetus was developing without complications. At the twenty-week mark, her check-ups became weekly. It was the longest any fetus had survived, and both the lab and Mary were becoming cautiously optimistic that everything would finally, _finally_ yield the results the world had been hoping for the past few years.

Week thirty of Mary’s unusual pregnancy was when history was made. Her child was delivered via a caesarean section, and within minutes it was confirmed to be in a healthy, stable condition. The world over heard the news, and the human race was eager to learn more about the miraculous birth.

But the tests were not over yet. Mary’s child was healthy, but there was still much left to be done. She and her baby were put under constant supervision for the next three years. During that time she was allowed to go about her life as she saw fit, but her child was only allowed to be babysat by those on the research team.

One morning the lab erupted in a panic. The child was gone! They called Mary, but she had no idea where it could be. She had left it with its supplementary care provider as always. The lab rushed to search for the missing child. Hours passed with no trace of Mary’s child. Many at the university joined the hunt.

As luck would have it, by nightfall somebody had found the child. It was fatigued, hungry, and a little dehydrated, but other than that all right. The following day after it had recovered, Mary asked it why it had gotten away from its sitter. The child replied that it had missed her, and wanted to see her. So it tried to follow her, but got lost.

After that, Mary insisted she take her child with her to her classes. Many of her older instructors were disgusted by her child and refused to allow it in, but Mary persisted. After getting thrown out of the lecture halls a few times, others joined in her protests. For every time she was not allowed to bring her child in, half the class or more would not attend as well. Typically the university would not have bothered to do anything about it, but the media caught wind of what was going on and soon the place of learning was pressured into allowing both Mary and her child to attend her lectures.

Before Mary could graduate, however, her child took a turn for the worse. The lab placed the child under their care again as they desperately tried to help it recover. But it was of no use. The human race’s medical science had come far enough for the artificial insemination to work, for the fetus to be carried full term and to be delivered alive, and for the child to live a few years, but it could not yet save it from Mother Nature’s sense of order. The child died two weeks before its fourth birthday.

But that is not the end of the story. In fact, it is only the beginning. The successful birth had sparked a number of other researchers and doctors to begin their own tests. While the first child grew up, other similar births occurred successfully, and each child thereafter served to better the human race’s understanding of what they were dealing with.

It would be another four decades before the next breakthrough would happen; for when the first of the special children who would die not of problems “inherent” to what it was, but from old age. After it, nearly every successful birth would again live to an age one could consider old for it. And because of all of this, Mary’s name would go down in history among the children born under similar conditions.

Mary had a little lamb.  
Its fleece was white as snow.

And thanks to Mary and that lamb, inter-species reproduction was able to hit its most important stride.


	3. Askew: Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Balancer must maintain all that are polar opposites with each other in the world. Without the Balancer, all will fall to ruin. Unfortunately, Balancers suffer from a very short lifespan of only about 20-25 years. Leslie, the current Balancer, is scheduled to die. But there comes a problem in taking their life that the reaper who came to fetch their soul is not willing to put up with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For NaNoWriMo 2015 I tried to work on a story idea I’ve had in mind for a few years. I only made about 14,000 words into it, sadly, but that 14,000 is something I would like to share. This will be largely updated only when I have a bad week where I cannot write but have the energy to still proofread and make posts. Much of this is unedited, and I'll be sharing it in little pieces until I run out. The chances of me finishing this story is not zero, but it is not high on my priority list either.
> 
> Extra tags/warnings: nonbinary main character, fantasy

“Good and bad, happiness and sadness, light and dark, black and white, life and death. Each of these must be taken in moderation, for if one is had more than its opposite imbalance occurs. Imbalance brings times of war, times of famine, times of depression. In order to maintain peace, prosperity, and hope we must all take the bad with the good, and know that it will pass. For a world without its dark side knows not what light is; but a world of darkness does not guarantee the existence of light. These are the truths of our realm, but here on this Week of Balance we are allowed to indulge ourselves in the light without repercussion. For it is in times of festivities that we recover from any bleakness in our lives, even if just for a moment. Now go; partake in your frivolities. I, your Balancer, command it.”

The densely packed crowd beneath the castle’s southern balcony erupted with whoops and hollers as citizens of all ages, backgrounds, and social standings shouted their appreciation for the young one who had just given their speech. The young one bowed, waited a moment, stood again, and turned their back to the crowd and retreated to the back of balcony. A pale woman garbed in a silvery-white dress stepped passed them and once more the crowd below let out shrieks of cheers. The young one’s ears twitched disapprovingly at the noise as they turned their back against the wall to one side of the great double doors. Standing against the other wall stood the captain of the guard, who watched the young one for a moment before turning his attention to the woman.

Her speech was far less grand, consisting of only three sentences spoken in a soft voice that still somehow managed to ring out clearly over the entire city that had gathered below.

“It is here this week that we celebrate the birth of Balancer Leslie, and mourn the death of their predecessor Ashley. Whoever it is that you care to keep in your thoughts this week is up to you, for that duality in itself holds the ideals of balance. To the Balancers!”

The crowd shouted in kind, though with the thousands of voices all together, the message was completely garbled by the time it reached Leslie’s ears. They wrinkled their nose and furrowed their brow at the bellowing, and if it were not for formalities, they would have left the balcony then and there. Instead, they waited in silent discomfort as the woman waved politely to the disbanding crowd. She stood there only a handful of seconds before rounding on her heel and retreating from the balcony’s edge. The guard opened the doors for her, and she passed through them without a single hesitation in her step. Leslie bowed politely to the guard and followed after the woman.

The sun had only been above the horizon an hour before Leslie had made their speech, but already they felt exhausted. While the city’s celebrations had only just begun, so too had Leslie’s duties that day. Returning to their room, the first thing on their mental to-do list was breakfast. While Leslie had been giving their speech, the serving staff had brought in an abundance of food. It was perhaps more than was usual, but Leslie didn’t care to try and quantify how much more. The primary change was that all that had been offered for desert were different types of cakes, instead of a small array of sweets of all kinds. Letting out a sigh, Leslie took a seat at the table in their private quarters and began to pick through their options.

Mid-to-late morning brought about some hustle and bustle in the castle. There was decorating as well as cleaning to be done that day, and the staff wanted to get an early start. There would be no guests on the first day of celebrations, but the entire castle’s occupants would have the rare opportunity to partake in a feast with the queen herself. That alone meant that the main dining hall would be packed so tightly there would hardly be room to walk between the aisles.

Despite the restlessness of the castle, Leslie remained alone in their room the entire morning. Their room was located in a private wing at the back of the castle; a wing hardly anyone was ever permitted entry into. Cleaning staff and servers were only allowed within Leslie’s chambers when they were not there, in fact. Leslie was used to this. Their wing was largely disconnected from the rest of the world, which gave Leslie enough peace and quiet to perform their daily rituals.

With their morning meal finished, Leslie lifted a sword from its rack that had been mounted to a wall. The blade had been forged by the finest dwarven blacksmith for Leslie’s ancestor some generations ago, meaning it was close to a hundred and fifty years old, give or take a dozen. It was a run-of-the-mill broadsword save for each half the blade being impregnated with an element; one being light and shining with a white radiance, the other being dark and glowing with a black elegance. Like most things in Leslie’s life, the sword was supposed to represent the dualities of balance. It seemed like a cruel joke played by fate that Leslie would be bombarded by everyday objects with the fact that would forever rule their life anyway. Still that day, as they had every day since they were able to lift the sword on their own, Leslie knelt down with the blade. The hilt was pressed to the floor, and the blade clasped flatly between Leslie’s palms. It mattered not which side pointed towards Leslie, but on that day they chose the black side. Leslie closed their eyes not out of necessity, but out of having no desire to look at anything.

In the mornings, Leslie would give a short prayer to the gods, thanking them for all they do whether it is of benefit to the realm or not. Then if they had nothing better to do, they would go into a trance-like state wherein they would cast their magic through the blade of the sword and allow it to disperse into the world. If they were busy, they would save this for the evening before going to sleep. Having little else scheduled to be done in the morning, Leslie took a breath and entered the trance.

The magic of Balancer worked in subtle ways. Those who had wealth might find the doll their child had wanted was sold, while those who lived a meager life might find they could afford to put another loaf of bread on the table that day. Those in mourning might be blessed with a birth in the family later that year. Or something as simple as somebody having a rough day might sleep well that night. During times of war or depression, fields might yield an excellent crop, or a new vein rich of ore might be discovered in a mine. And of course, during times of prosperity a house might burn down, or a rancher’s prized cattle would fall ill. The Balancer themselves could not determine exactly how their magic would affect the world, all they could do was feel the pulse of the world, so to speak, determine its health, and provide adequate amounts of both light and dark magic to make small adjustments as needed. The world, as Leslie read it, was already quite well in balance. Spirits were high due to festivities, yes, but the work and preparations put into them would keep things covered for most of the week. Due to this, Leslie’s magic would probably take effect in ways similar to the poor having a little something extra, and the rich having a little something less.

When Leslie opened their eyes again, the shadows in the room told them that about an hour had passed. However quickly it felt to Leslie that they had accomplished their task, an hour was the average amount of time it took. Satisfied, Leslie placed the sword back where it belonged.


	4. Askew: Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Extra tags/warnings: nonbinary main character, fantasy

There were still a few hours until noon, and Leslie decided it would be best to spend the rest of the morning in the training yards. Changing out of their formal clothing that they had worn for the ceremony and into something that wouldn’t matter if it was damaged, Leslie left their chambers. The castle was far livelier than Leslie’s wing, and the commotion almost took them by surprise. The maids steered clear of Leslie whenever they could, to the point where Leslie could walk without the slightest hesitation in their step and would not run into anyone. No one spoke a word to them, but every now and again somebody would bow their head politely as they hurried passed. Leslie paid little mind to any of them, only responding in kind to their bows out of habit.

The guards’ training yards took a large portion of the eastern side of the castle. Under normal circumstances, they would be full of young guards trying their hardest to better their skills in order to rise up in ranks. Today, there were only a handful of people. Among them was the captain, who was putting arrows into a target. Leslie perked up a little at the sight of him and trotted over to his side.

“Hal! Are you busy?” Leslie called out as they approached.

The captain loosed his last arrow, just barely off the bullseye. He looked down at the smaller person and the slightest sign of a smile cracked at the corners of his lips. “Not anymore.”

“Spar with me, then. I’m bored.”

Hal nodded curtly and silently led the way towards a storage room. Each of the guards had properly made and fitted arms and armor, but for everyday practice, they would choose from a selection of older, beaten up and worn down items. Hal found them a pair of swords and passed the heavier one to Leslie. He gestured towards a pile of shields, but Leslie shook their head. Giving a shrug, Hal guided the young one back out to the yard.

Since the day Leslie could pick up a stick, they had been allowed to receive training with any of the guards whenever they had free time. Because of this, Leslie was able to beat down most new recruits. But having no strict training regimen made Leslie stand no chance against an opponent like Hal. That mattered little to them, though. Hal provided a level of challenge that was thrilling to Leslie on days where stress, boredom, or both were high. Being one of those days, Leslie found repeatedly attempting to land a hit on Hal to be an excellent way to blow off steam.

At eleven-thirty, Hal blocked one last strike before finally retaliating, swiftly bringing his empty arm to Leslie’s chest and knocking them down. Leslie sat in the dirt gulping down breaths as fatigue rapidly set in. Sweat ran down their face, and Leslie cracked a smile at having worked it up. Hal reached his hand out, and when Leslie gathered the strength to, they clasped it firmly and allowed themself to be pulled up onto their feet.

“We done for the day, then?” Leslie asked.

“You are. You should go bathe before noon. The queen would not approve of you showing up to your meal while covered in sweat.” Hal replied, reaching for Leslie’s sword.

“Ah, right. I’ll get to that, then. Mind if I come back afterward? Today is so boring!”

Hal released what one might be able to call a chuckle as he turned his back on the smaller person. “Afternoon’s new recruit archery. No sparring, but you may come watch or participate if you wish.”

“I’ll be there!”

Each day Leslie would have at least one meal with the queen herself. It was rare that this meal was breakfast, and usually it would be dinner. During the Week of Balance, however, a banquet would be had in the main hall every evening. As such, their private meals would instead be had at noon. Leslie hurried back to their room as quickly as was appropriate for a noble to walk the halls. The remains from breakfast had already been cleared away, and when Leslie checked their washroom, the private bath had already been filled with warm water in anticipation. For a brief moment Leslie wondered if the maids knew them well enough that they would have gone to the training yard or if the queen had ordered it to help ensure that Leslie would clean up beforehand regardless. Either way, Leslie quickly removed their garments and stepped into the tub.

Being in a hurry and knowing they would need to take another bath before the banquet, Leslie did the bare minimum they felt was needed. They rinsed themself thoroughly, wiping away the sweat that had clung to their darkly tanned skin and fine blond hair covering their body. They scrubbed their scalp so their mop of hair wouldn’t be too greasy, and made sure their ears and tail were cleaned up too. Once they felt they were in a presentable state, they got out, dried off, and wrapped a towel around their waist as they went to decide what they should put on.

During the ceremony Leslie had worn a long gown of white with black detailing. It was a traditional garb for Balancers, which Leslie did not hate, but had never felt entirely comfortable in. They would have to wear it again at the banquets the entire week, but for now it was being cleaned. Instead Leslie chose a red silken shirt and deep blue pants. They were among the more casual of clothes Leslie possessed, but not to the point that the queen would disapprove if worn to their meal. Because of Leslie’s small, claw-like toenails, shoes were not required. After they were dressed, Leslie ran a comb through their hair quickly to try and tame the curly mop. It did not work well, but it looked better than before, which for Leslie was good enough.

The meal that day would take place in the queen’s chambers. Of all the people in the castle, Leslie was one of few allowed in them. That said, Leslie did not disregard courtesies and rapped their knuckles on the door and waited for a reply. The queen opened the door and smiled brightly as she laid eyes on Leslie.


	5. Askew: Part 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Extra tags/warnings: nonbinary main character, fantasy

“Come on in.” she said, taking a step back and holding the door open. Leslie gave a polite bow as they entered.

Leslie had the distinct feeling that their own chambers were second only to the queen’s in decadence and elegance. While Leslie had their own washroom, bedroom, and a few others all done up with bright silks and silvery decorations, the queen had even more space with gold as well. Contrast to this, however, the queen’s appearance was not so gaudy.

She was radiant, however, in her own way. Her skin was pale as snow. Upon her head long, straight tresses of silver hair flowed down to almost her ankles. Her eyes were silver, and the short goatee upon her chin was white. She had tufts of silky white fur growing from both her wrists and ankles. The gowns she always wore were light, airy, and either silver or white. Protruding from the bottom of her spine and carefully fit through a small hole in her gown was a long, white lion’s tail. And upon her forehead a horn spiraled out for nearly a foot. At all times that Leslie had seen her she seemed to give off a shimmering white aura. It had always been Leslie’s opinion that if nothing else, Queen Thea was truly a being worthy of royalty by appearance alone. That she was in fact an excellent ruler and well loved by the kingdom was just sugar on top.

Queen Thea gestured silently for Leslie to take a seat anywhere they liked. Both of them already knew where Leslie would sit, as Leslie always took one of the armchairs beside the coffee table. The queen sat across from them on a matching sofa. Waiting for them on the table was a selection of foods of the same abundance and quality that had been set for Leslie’s breakfast. Again, the only options for dessert were cakes. Queen Thea looked over the selection before choosing an apple from a basket of fruit that had been not-so-subtly placed closer to her side of the table and easily within her arm’s reach. As she took her first bite, Leslie decided to begin eating as well.

The first part of their meal went by in silence. It wasn’t until after the queen had finished her second piece of fruit and finally picked up a portion of one of the cooked dishes that they began to converse.

“How do you plan to pass the time today?” Queen Thea inquired. Her voice was quiet but clear as crystal.

“I’ve already been to the training yard. Hal and I had a little sparring match, if you can call it that. Mostly it was just me trying to penetrate his defenses. That didn’t work so well in my favor, but it was still fun. After lunch he said the new recruits would be having archery practice. I’m terrible with a bow, but I figure I’ll go and watch. It’s better than sitting in the silence of my chambers.”

The queen nodded softly. “I take it you have already performed your ritual for the day?”

“I have. I did that right after breakfast.”

“You are a good child.” She stated, casting a gentle smile across the table.

Leslie returned her smile for a moment, but quickly frowned and let out a sigh. “Queen Thea, I am twenty-two this week. I am far from being a child anymore.”

“I have seen three of your predecessors through their whole lives, young one. When you get to be my age, everyone is a child.”

“The curse or the blessing of being a unicorn-kin?”

There was a moment’s pause before the queen’s lips drew back into a broad smile. “It is either, depending on the situation. In this case, I would say it is a blessing. I have been allowed to have meals with five different, very unique Balancers in my lifetime. Who knows how many more I will be able to sit here and talk with before I am old?”

“At least another five I would say, your Majesty. You are still young.”

“Saying I am halfway through my life is hardly the compliment, Leslie.” The queen replied with a laugh. “But I do thank you for your confidence that I will get to see double-digits.”

The rest of the meal carried on in a similar fashion. The two spoke of the banquet that night, and made other small talk. On occasion, when the opportunity arose, Leslie would again give their compliments to the queen, and the queen would always smile and give a small laugh. For desert Queen Thea decided upon a strawberry cake, and Leslie took the simplest vanilla that was there. Past experience had taught Leslie that if they kept choosing the frillier, more decadent ones, they would be feeling ill by the end of the week. The alternative was that Leslie could also take none sometimes, but Leslie always felt bad not touching any of them when the cooks had put so much work into each one. So Leslie would take the middle road every time.

With their meal finished, the queen dismissed Leslie. The Balancer rose to their feet, bowed deeply, told the queen how pleased they were to be allowed the meal with her, and let themself out. As soon as Leslie was out of sight and earshot, they slumped over a little and sighed deeply, releasing pent-up tension that Leslie had become all-too accustomed to when it came to spending time in private with Queen Thea. As must as Leslie admired her, they couldn’t help but feel nervous that they would mess something up no matter how often they ate and spoke with her.

***

As kind as Hal was to Leslie, he was a harsh task master to the new recruits. If their form was even slightly off, he would immediately correct them and have them stand perfectly still in the correct way for at least five minutes, adding on another for each error made. If anyone missed the target, they would be told to run ten laps around the yard before trying again. If they missed again, it would become fifteen, and another miss would bring it up to twenty. Hal once said the point was to weed out those who really had no talent with a bow, as well as to build up strength and stamina for them so they could be more useful elsewhere. It was times like these that all Leslie was thankful that all of their training was informal.


	6. Askew: Part 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Extra tags/warnings: nonbinary main character, fantasy

After three or four men were on the ground completely exhausted from running so much, and most everyone else’s shoulders and back were sore from practice, Hal gathered their attention once again.

“Leslie, would you come here a moment?” he asked.

Leslie stood up from the ground where they had been watching most of the afternoon. They trotted to Hal’s side and looked up at him curiously.

“Before I end today’s practice, I would like for all of you to try and disarm Leslie.” There was a round of whispers among the recruits, and Leslie themself had to wonder why Hal had decided to do this, but did not object. “No real blows are to be had on either side, only attempts to disarm are allowed. If you do try and land a hit, Leslie has full permission beat you until you cannot walk tomorrow.” He glanced down at Leslie. “I assume you can do that?”

“I’m fairly certain I can, yes.”

“Alright. Everybody gets one try. If you fail, you are dismissed for the day. If you succeed, your work tomorrow will be lessened. Everyone, do your best.”

There were approximately twenty new recruits in total. They all lined up as they wanted to, meaning the ones who were most tired tried to be as near to the back as possible. On their turn, they were handed one of the worn swords. Leslie was given one as well. The two would stand a few feet apart, would bow, take their positions, and on Hal’s word would begin. Some of the recruits would attempt to get a quick first strike in, others would wait for Leslie to make the first move. Either way, no match lasted longer than a few seconds. Even those recruits who were more adept with swords did not have the grip strength nor the skill required to prevent Leslie from quickly disarming them through one manner or another. Two came close, but both of them faltered as Leslie took advantage of their close proximity to stomp on their feet. The first of these tried to call foul, but Hal objected on the grounds that while it would be a fault in a duel, in a real battle it was a viable tactic and they should learn to endure everything they can while they were still rookies. In the end, not a single one could defeat Leslie.

As a bit of a bonus to the six who remained after their turn to watch the others, Hal took up the worn sword himself and stood across from Leslie. One of the recruits gave the start, and Hal wasted no time in getting Leslie on the defensive. In ten seconds, Leslie’s sword fell to the ground. Hal took a step back and stood upright, and Leslie did the same after a moment to register what had happened. They bowed to each other again and Hal turned back towards the recruits.

“By the time you are fully-fledged guards, I expect each and every one of you who just saw that to be able to do the same. I do not expect this of your peers, though I will not hold failing a test like this against them. I will hold it against you, however. You have seen it for yourself just what kind of skill Leslie has, and they do not train even half as often as you do. You have also just seen how to do it. Learn both by doing, and by watching. That is the lesson here. Do not breathe a word of this to your peers. You are all dismissed.”

With that, the six left the training yard. Hal picked up the sword from the ground and brought it to the storage room. Leslie waited until he was done to speak up.

“Did you plan to have everyone fight me like that?”

“I decided when you said you would join us that I would have you participate in some way. I did not choose how exactly until they were nearly done with archery practice.” He smiled down at Leslie. “I did not plan to fight you myself until I saw some had stayed behind like that. If they had all left, I would not have challenged you.”

Leslie gave a soft chuckle. “Sounds like they got a real treat, then.”

“I hope they understand that as well as you do. The ones who stayed behind were probably hoping to pick up some ideas of how to do it anyway. At any rate, we both need to wash up and get changed before the banquet tonight. As do all of my guards. You get going. I’ve got to wrangle them in and make sure they are presentable.”

“Alright. I’ll see you tonight.”

Another bath and getting dressed up in fine clothes later, and Leslie set out for the main dining hall. As expected, the place was filled to the point where walking was nearly impossible. Tables and chairs alone were pressed very close together. Leslie let out a sigh knowing that Hal was about to have a rough time making sure all of his guards got in and sat down without trouble. The maids, cooks, servers, and other castle staff were already filing in and taking their seats. A few others were still hurrying about adding final platters of food to the table. The guards would be arriving soon, and after they and everyone else were seated, the queen would enter.

In the dining hall, there was a specific way in which the queen, Hal, and Leslie always went about things. First, Leslie would arrive before the guards and would take up position standing to the right of the doors at the back of the hall. Once the guards or anyone else Hal had authority over were seated, he would stand to the left. Hal would then relay very softly to the queen when it was time for her to make her entrance. When she gives the signal after that, Leslie and Hal would open the doors in unison. The queen would step forward, the doors would be closed, and they would follow the queen to the table. The crowed would rise as the queen entered, would wait silently as she would give a short speech, and would be seated again upon her command. Leslie would help her into her seat, and then they and Hal would take their own.

Today was no exception. Once the guards filed in and Hal made sure they were all in their places, he joined Leslie at the doors. When all the staff were in place as well, Hal whispered that they were ready for Queen Thea to enter. After a few seconds, the queen said she was ready, too. They opened the doors, the crowd rose, and the queen entered. The doors were closed and the three approached the table.


	7. Askew: Part 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Extra tags/warnings: nonbinary main character, fantasy

“What is there to be said for tonight’s banquet that has not been said before? The Week of Balance is for celebration not just for the upper class, but for everyone. It is for this reason that all of you have the honor of dining with me tonight in this hall. Please, do not be intimidated or shy. If you do not know even the slightest of social graces or table manners, that is not a problem. Eat, drink, and enjoy yourselves to your heart’s content tonight. Do not worry yourselves that you are in the presence of your queen. You may all be seated.”

No sooner had she given the command and finished speaking than the hall erupted into lively chatter as everyone sat down again and began to feast. Leslie took the queen’s hand and guided her to her seat, and pushed her chair in for her. After, Hal and Leslie took their own seats.

Under normal circumstances, Leslie and Hal would not drink. There were many reasons for this, from no desire for it to needing to be sober should something happen to the queen. During this banquet, however, all three at the head of the table partook in several glasses of wine to go with the heavy meal. Hal, sitting nearest his guards, engaged in conversation with a few who were sitting closest to him. Leslie would occasionally glance at the staff whom sat near them, but any time they would catch eyes with somebody, that somebody was quick to look away. In the end, Leslie passed the meal in relative silence, only speaking when the queen would address them.

As the meal came to a close, the queen decided it was time to give her “guests” permission to leave. Leslie was told to call everyone’s attention, and so they did by tapping an empty wine glass with a fork. Once the hall was silent again and all eyes were forward, Queen Thea stood and announced that she would be retiring from the hall now, and everyone was free to go when they saw fit. It was Hal who helped the queen from her seat, and both he and Leslie saw her out in much the same manner as they had let her in. After, Hal resumed talking with his guards, and Leslie decided to sit and watch the rest of the hall go about their business.

Slowly, people began to trickle from the hall. It wasn’t for another hour that it really began to empty, and by two hours after the queen had departed all that remained were Hal, Leslie, and the few staff members who were tasked with cleaning up. Leslie was the first of the two to stand.

“I’m going to bed.” They stated. “I’ve got another six days of this to put up with.”

Hal gave a nod. “I need to make sure everyone made it back to the barracks alright. And ensure they get to sleep at an appropriate time.” He turned to the maids who were already getting to work. “You lot have a good night as well.”

The maids gave him a few “thank you”s and resumed their work. Hal and Leslie departed from the hall and went their separate ways. Leslie’s wing was so very silent compared to how the hall had been during the evening meal, and they welcomed the quiet. No matter how many times Leslie would have to be around a lively crowd, they really were not cut out for it. Leslie rubbed the soft ears on their head as they turned the knob and entered their room.

Changing into their night clothes, Leslie began to feel the effects of the huge meal, the alcohol, practice, and the day’s stress. It wasn’t unusual for Leslie to stay awake fairly late into the night reading one book or another, but that night Leslie skipped it in favor of going straight to bed. The last thing they thought of before drifting off to sleep was that six more days of celebrations seemed almost unreal, and Leslie had no idea how they were going to be able to survive it.

Leslie awoke with a chill running down their spine. They blinked in the darkness, eyes blurry and trying to focus on anything. A quick glance was all it took to know it was still nighttime, but that wasn’t what bothered Leslie. They had woken in the night before, that wasn’t a problem. Normally they would simply roll over and fall back asleep in no time. What bothered Leslie was that they had shivered so fiercely. While twitching awake in one’s sleep was not an uncommon thing, this was very different. It had felt like Leslie had been sleeping on a bed of ice, yet the blankets were laying comfortably on top of them, and the room itself was a reasonable temperature. Leslie shivered again. Why was it so cold?

Feeling wide awake at the bizarre sensation, Leslie sat up and slid out from the blanket, placing their feet gently on the rug. It too, felt a reasonable temperature. Wondering just what was going on, they stood and made their way out of their bedroom. Perhaps a warm bath would solve this problem.

Upon entering the main room of their chambers, Leslie froze in their place. Somebody was sitting on the sofa in the middle of the room. Somebody cloaked all in black. It had a scroll laid out on the coffee table and was scribbling something with a black quill. It was still hard to see, but Leslie couldn’t make out an inkwell anywhere. Not that it mattered much in the grand scheme of things; there was a stranger sitting in Leslie’s room in the dead of night! No one but the queen was allowed to be in Leslie’s rooms while they were in there!

“Um, excuse me, I don’t know who you are, but you need to leave.” Leslie stated, loudly and firmly.

The person stopped its scribbling and turned its head just a little towards Leslie, though its face was still obscured by the hood of its cloak. “So you’re awake. Good. It is about time.” It said, its voice deep and soothing despite the absurdity of the situation.

“Did you not hear me? I said you need to leave!” Leslie repeated, trying not to shout as panic began to creep upon them.

“Oh I heard you. I chose to ignore you.” The person laid the quill on the table and picked up the scroll. It got to its feet and turned fully to face Leslie. There was a sinking feeling in the pit of Leslie’s stomach. In the dim moonlight streaming in through the window, Leslie could see no skin on this person, as everything was thoroughly covered in some way. The person’s face continued to be obscured by its cloak, but there were two yellow glowing spots right about where its eyes should be. Its black gloved hands held the scroll out towards Leslie. “You can read, yes? Would you mind telling me what time is written here? I’m sure you can figure out what I mean.”

Hesitantly, Leslie took a few steps forward and looked at the parchment. There were several names written on it, each with a time listed under it. In addition, each one had a vague note of who they were as well as what appeared to be a cause of death. Things like “food poisoning”, “falling from the roof of the bar”, or “murdered by highway robbers”. Leslie grimaced at the few they read, until they came to their name. “Leslie. Age- 21. Occupation- Balancer. Time- 2:37am. Old age.”

“Is this some kind of sick joke?” Leslie asked.

“So you can’t read?” The person said, ignoring Leslie again. It turned the scroll towards itself. “It says 2:37am. And just so you know it is currently 2:16am. You’ve got 21 minutes. You might want to think if there is anything you want to do while you still can. Leave a note, eat a piece of chocolate, punch the wall… Whatever you want. Heck, if you want to jerk off, I’ll step out into the hallway.”

“This isn’t funny!”

“No, it is not. I thought I would try and lighten the mood a little, but if you would rather be serious, I can do that too. Now, what is the problem you seem to be having?”

“That’s what I want to know! Who are you, and why are you in my room?!”

The person let out a sigh. “Why do the young ones always have to ask this question? This is why I want to work with the elderly, they all seem to be able to recognize a grim reaper right away, and most of them leave without fuss.”


	8. Askew: Part 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Extra tags/warnings: nonbinary main character, fantasy

There was that chill again, causing Leslie to shiver even in the warm room. It ran the full length of Leslie’s spine, seeping all the way to their bones. Leslie swallowed, feeling their throat becoming all too dry.

“Grim…reaper?”

“That’s right. You’re scheduled to die tonight, and I was assigned to collect your soul. It’s such a pity, isn’t it? The rest of my documents on you say your birthday is tomorrow. A Tuesday. How nice, I kind of like Tuesdays. Happy early birthday, by the way, however you will not be celebrating your twenty-second, I’m afraid. Now I’ll ask again; is there anything you want to do before I take you away? You still have 19 minutes left.”

Leslie looked down at the floor, unable to take all of this in as quickly as the reaper seemed to be trying to make them. “Why? Why tonight? My father lived to the ripe age of twenty-nine! Why am I dying now?”

The reaper gave a shrug. “Beats me. I don’t ask why mortals die when they do, I just do my job. Besides, don’t all Balancers die in their 20s? You should have been expecting death every night for a while now.”

“You say that like it’s my fault I’m surprised!” Leslie shouted, their voice finally getting out of their control. “Nobody my age should be expected to die willingly! I haven’t even _begun_ to live my life! Why am I supposed to die?! Can’t you change it?!”

The reaper let out a sigh and shook its head at the floor. “Really, I do my job so well and they still won’t assign me to the elderly…” it muttered before looking back up at Leslie. “Listen, I get that you are still young and full of spunk, but everyone’s time comes sooner or later. If more of you mortals accepted that, it would be so much more pleasant. And by the way, you are now down to 17 minutes. I’d seriously think about ending this argument now and doing what you can in that time.”

“Stop that! Stop telling me how much time I have left! I am not going with you!”

“You are.”

“NO! If you come near me, I’ll… I’ll..”

“Yeah, exactly. There’s not a thing you can do to me. No mortal can harm, let along kill, a reaper. Look, I know you feel like your legacy has only just begun. But you’re the Balancer, the most important person alive in this realm. You already have a legacy. You should feel proud of that! You’ve done your job all your life, and judging by the conditions of the outside world, you’ve done it well. Now it is time to take a much deserved rest. Your heir will take things from here.”

“What heir!? Don’t you get it?! I’m not even twenty-two! How are you expecting me to have an heir?!”

For the first time that night, the reaper fell completely silent. After a moment, it looked down at the scroll in its hands. They brought it closer to its face. It then rolled it up, tucked it under an arm, and dug around in a pocket and produced another, smaller one. It unrolled it all the way, the whole thing being just over a foot long. Its red eyes skimmed over the page quickly before it looked back up at Leslie for a second, then continued reading.

“Something’s wrong.” It muttered, turning the page towards Leslie. “It says here that Balancers all die in their 20s, and it is common practice for them to have an heir by the time they are 18. You say you are nearly 22. Unless I’ve failed kindergarten 22 is older than 18.” It lowered its voice to a very serious tone. “Why do you not have one?”

“Because I’m a virgin! Just because I am the Balancer doesn’t mean I can reproduce asexually! That’s not how it works, or do you not understand the concept of ‘mortal’ reproduction?”

“But you are in your 20s! You should have had a child years ago!”

“Well, too bad! My dad was three years older than I am now before I was born! Sometimes things just don’t go the way we all plan them to, like the fact that I am going to die tonight! Thanks for that, by the way! I was hoping I’d at least get to see the day those six new recruits could disarm me in a sparring match.”

Whether the reaper was paying attention or not, Leslie did not know. It was rolling up the smaller scroll and tucking it away again. It turned back to the table and picked up its quill. It faced Leslie again and waited for them to finish shouting before speaking quietly.

“Something is very wrong. You’re the Balancer, and you are scheduled to die in 12 minutes. But you say you’re a virgin. That is bad. Very, very bad. Are you _sure_ you do not have an heir?” To Leslie’s surprise, the reaper’s voice was beginning to sound panicked. It was enough to stop Leslie’s shouting entirely.

“Y-yeah… I’m positive. I’ve never had sex. Besides, I’m pretty sure I would know if I had given birth, or if I had gotten a woman pregnant.”

The reaper placed its hand on the back of the sofa to steady itself. Its breathing, if the raspy wisps of air could be called that, became ragged with terror. “No. No no no no _no_! NO! That is not right! That can’t be right! Why would a Balancer your age be a virgin?” the reaper lowered its voice, and what came next was a string of profanities, something that Leslie had only heard the guards ever use.

Despite their earlier anger, Leslie took a step closer to the reaper, reaching out to touch and comfort it. The reaper however looked up at Leslie with a stare that caused them to stop moving again.

“Leslie… Answer me truthfully; do you have a lover?” It took a second for the question to process in Leslie’s mind, but the answer was a simple shaking of their head. The reaper let out a single, distraught laugh and looked back at the floor. “Of course. That would be too much to ask for.”

With that, it slid down until it was sitting on the arm of the sofa. Now Leslie was able to step forward and place their hand on the reaper’s shoulder. To their surprise, its shoulder was firm and warm. Beneath all the cloaks, it felt like a being of flesh of blood. Shaking the thought from their mind, Leslie pressed for answers.

“What’s the matter? Why are you so frightened?”

The reaper gave another dejected laugh. “For not being in a joking mood, you sure are good at telling them.” It glanced up at Leslie, was silent for a second and said softly, “You really don’t know, do you?”

“Know what?”

“If the Balancer dies, and there is no one to take their place…everyone in this realm will be dead within the year.”


	9. An Unusual Story of Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An older sister's love for her little brother is something to be awed at. What's more is that love comes in many forms, all of which can often toe the line with one another. And sometimes there comes another person who further shakes up the relationship between siblings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every once in a while, maybe once every year or two, I'll open up Word and just...kind of word vomit onto it with nothing in particular in mind, just to see what happens. That's what this entry is.
> 
> This is related to a story I have had in my head for a while, but have NO IDEA what to do with. For starters, this story does not take place in our reality, but I do not know to what extent. There IS magic involved though, so there’s that. Another thing you should be aware of is that the siblings in this story are not related by blood at all. The brother was adopted into the family. And just because I want to make it absolutely clear that this isn’t some political statement of some sort, his abnormalities are that he has dog ears and a tail. I do not know why he does, he just does. Again, this is a story whose details even I do not really know.
> 
> Extra tags/warnings: incest? but not really because again they are not blood related, dog boy, student/teacher relationship, M/M relationship, fluff, first person

My little brother, Jen, came to us in the middle of the day. He was so small, so defenseless. My parents didn’t know what to make of him at first, but I knew instantly that I loved him. We took him in despite his apparent abnormalities and we raised him the best we could.

I remember he never liked to wear pants. Instead he took to skirts and dresses the same way a little girl might. My parents were okay with this, in part because it meant he could wear my old clothes that no longer fit me. He was so cute. He wanted to play with me all the time, something I wanted so badly to do for him. But I had school, so I couldn’t stay with him. But he’d always come running out to the corner of our street whenever he saw the bus pulling up in the afternoon to greet me. I remember lifting him up in my arms and carrying him back home even when I was in elementary school.

When he would start to get sleepy, he’d lay his head on my lap and I’d brush his hair. He liked it when I did that. He was like an animal in that way; loving it when I petted him or pampered him like I would a dog. There were many nights where he would fall asleep that way and our parents would have to carry him to bed. Some nights I’d lay in my own bed early just so he could cuddle up beside me when he was tired, that way no one would have to move him. He could just stay with me all night.

When he started going to school, all of us worried. He was different from the other children. He was no longer so weak as he once was, but he was still abnormal. He was a good boy, though. He never got into trouble, but was instead that child the teacher would call home to praise. We were so happy that he was a wonderful student. And he loved to learn and be with the other children.

But it was those same children that we were really concerned about. He was different, and because of that he was teased. A lot. There were some days he would coming running to me at the bus stop in the afternoon not with a smile on his face but with tears in his eyes. I’d pick up and just let him sob. Sometimes we were lucky and the ice cream truck would come by while I sat on the curb cradling him in my arms to comfort him, and I’d buy him a popsicle.

He was in fifth grade when things started to change. He had been bullied again and was waiting for me like always. I still remember what he said the moment I stepped off the bus. He looked up at me, his eyes shining with sadness. He looked at me and he said,

“I didn’t cry, Sissy. I didn’t cry.”

I can still feel it when I think back to that moment, how my heart sank in my chest. I hugged him tighter than I ever had and praised him for being such a strong boy. He squeezed me and buried his face in my chest. I rubbed his back while he hiccupped and dry-sobbed. The ice cream truck didn’t come by that afternoon. I felt so terrible, not being able to get him anything to celebrate how strong he had been to endure what he had and not cry. So I asked him,

“Is there anything you want to do? Anything I can give you?”

He sniffled, and in the quietest whisper I had ever heard him use, asked if he could kiss me. I didn’t mind that. I’d been kissing him on the cheek since he first came to us. He was my little brother, and I loved him dearly. So why wouldn’t I let him kiss me instead? I told him he could and leaned down, expecting to feel his lips upon my cheek. I didn’t.

He kissed me on the lips instead.

I don’t think any of us expected what happened because of that one kiss. Something changed between us. I’d always wanted to protect him, and with that one kiss I suddenly felt that I had the power to. I felt like I could do absolutely anything to look after my little brother, and I don’t think it would be a lie to say that I began to be exceptionally protective of him.

But it wasn’t just me that had changed because of that kiss. He did, too. It was as if his desire to become stronger was sealed with that kiss. Every day he grew more and more, and I saw him crying less and less. He smiled more, played more, and most importantly he was beginning to come well into his own.

Circumstances changed shortly after that. Our parents were going through a rough patch and I was often left alone to look after both of us. I was sixteen at the time. Jen was twelve. I don’t know how it happened exactly, but my brother started attending high school with me. He was brilliant, but not so much as he should have been able to skip grades. It was more that he was not allowed to be out of my sight than anything. He started talking online courses and would do his assignments quietly in class while I was doing my own work.

I think he liked that a lot more than going to his own school. I did too. My friends took a liking to him and treated him better than any of his peers ever did. He even made a few friends of his own that were my age. Those were the happiest times of his school life, I think. When it was me, and him, and our friends. All of us looking out for each other and growing and sharing together.

The following year is when I met the second most important man in my life. He was a new teacher, a gym teacher, and my brother and I were put into his homeroom class. He… I don’t think he knew what to make of my brother, at first. Jen on the other hand instantly took a liking to him. He even gave him a nickname: AJ. I don’t know where he got that name, but it wasn’t long before the rest of us started to call him that too.

Over the course of my junior year, AJ, my brother, and I got to know each other very well. AJ was slow to learn the ins and outs of my relationship to my brother, but in time he came to be one of the most understanding people I’ve ever known. He even began to offer my brother help with his schoolwork if there was something he didn’t know and I couldn’t explain.

I think it was just as the schoolyear was ending that my brother made his boldest move yet. We came into class one morning before school had started. It was something we often did as it gave my brother more time to go over his work with AJ. No one else was in the classroom at the time, and for that I will forever be grateful. AJ had just given my brother his full attention when…

…When my brother pulled him down by the collar of his shirt and kissed him.

Of course AJ was surprised by that. Anyone would be. But just as my brother kissing me changed things between us, so too did it change things between them. It was something none of us could ever escape from. As I explained this to AJ, I don’t think he yet realized that when I said ‘never escape from’ I really meant it.

Just as it took AJ a while to come to terms with my brother being in his classroom, it took some months for him to come to terms with being in my brother’s life. But by the time I was a senior and the New Year rolled around, he was as dedicated to my brother as I was. I graduated…and AJ and I got married.

Now don’t think that it was a marriage of convenience. No. It was far from that. AJ and I loved each other, and the choice to be married was ours to make. That it benefitted my brother and our loyalty to him greatly was only a bonus.

Jen finished his schooling, either spending his days at school with my husband or staying at home with me. No matter what, he always had to be around one of us. That was just a fact of life. And here is the part where I confess that my husband and I were both madly in love with Jen. When he graduated, we told him as such. We told him that we wanted him to always be in our lives.

It was a sentiment he returned fully. And so he and I severed our ties as siblings, but instead became as betrothed. He and AJ too became lovers, and the three of us couldn’t be happier. We’re still together, even five years later.

I expect things will stay like this forever. Myself, my husband, and the man we are both wholly dedicated to protecting.


	10. The Princess’s Husband

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A princess's year-long search for a husband.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love love LOVE these two characters. Anything else I want to say I will save for the end notes~~
> 
> Extra tags/warnings: f/f relationship

Once upon a time, not too long ago, the queen of a certain land fell ill and died shortly thereafter. She left behind a grieving husband and a single teenaged daughter. The kingdom went into mourning, for everyone loved the now deceased queen. The princess too donned her black clothing and felt the loss of her mother. Months passed, and the king and his people had all returned to wearing their normal clothes. The princess, however, remained in black.

A short time later, before the princess’s seventeenth birthday, the king went to her. He told her that the time when she will take the throne as queen was approaching, as he did not believe he would be fit to rule in just a few years’ time. He suggested to her that she use that time to seek out a suitable husband for herself, as once she is queen she would not have a lot of free time in which to be courted.

The princess agreed, understanding her father’s advice. However, the princess was not one for romance, and so she laid out a set of conditions. The first was that she and she alone would be the one to choose who it is she would allow to court her, as well as who she would marry. The second was that she would only spend a year looking for a husband, to begin and end on her birthday. The third was that she was free to choose not to marry anyone. The king agreed to these terms.

Word was sent out, and upon the day of the princess’s seventeenth birthday, many suitors in the form of the nobility and foreign princes came forward to take their chances with her. The princess was ruthless, however, and immediately sent away many people, most of whom she had known since childhood and held no love for. From there, one-by-one, she began to allow her suitors to occupy her time.

Eight months went by, and in that time she had turned away twenty-one more individuals. Of them, thirteen were coldly dismissed upon making the same sort of comment: they spoke distastefully towards her choice of continuing to wear black.

One day, a certain prince turned up at the palace with a single knight in tow. The knight was a young woman of similar age to the princess, which was not unheard of. The prince sought to romance the princess, but on one condition: he insisted that the knight be allowed in his presence at all times, including the sharing of bedchambers. Others were appalled! For a prince that sought their princess’s hand in marriage to share a bed with another woman was reprehensible at best. But the princess, without voicing a single question, allowed it.

The princess and the prince began to spend their free time together. The knight was always just a few paces behind them. Naturally the princess was bothered by this, but she kept as such to herself. A week went by, and she had already become accustomed to the woman’s presence.

Two months passed in this manner. The prince would talk of many things with the princess at every chance they had, and if there was nothing to be said they would simply enjoy one another’s company. There started to be whispers throughout the palace that the prince would most certainly be the one whom the princess chose to marry. The princess…could not deny that he was the most compatible with her.

Ten months into the whole event, the prince was suddenly called away on business elsewhere within the kingdom. He apologized profusely, proclaimed that he would return as swiftly as possible. As a measure of good faith he left his knight behind, the intention being that he would return at least as long as it would take to reclaim her again.

The princess could not help but feel sorry for the knight. She had been left alone in a place where she had no one with whom she was close. Out of kindness, the princess invited her to act as her personal guard and to keep her company. The knight graciously accepted. The princess was not the kind who spoke casually with people she had never exchanged more than a greeting with, but within a day she and the knight were speaking to one another as if they had been the ones talking for the last two months. Within a week, they were as if old friends.

Three weeks later, the prince returned. He bared sad news that he had to go back to his own kingdom in just a few days’ time. Until then, he and the princess resumed their courtship as if there had not been a break. The whispers of the palace came again, and the princess had almost made up her mind.

But then, one fateful morning, the princess stepped out into the gardens to meet with the prince and she happened to overhear him talking with his knight. He lamented that the princess never wore bright, beautiful colors and claimed that they would suit her dark hair, pale complexion, and unique eyes far better than black.

Enraged and feeling betrayed, the princess retreated back inside and immediately had him sent away, not speaking a single word to him that day.

The rest of the month passed, as did much of the next, with no other suitors coming forward to try for the princess’s hand. The princess had just about made up her mind yet again, although this time that she would not be taking a husband at all.

Then the funniest thing happened.

A young man showed up at the palace. He was dirty and dressed in rags. He begged to be allowed the chance to court the princess. The guards nearly sent him away, but the princess herself intervened. She reiterated that she alone was the only one who could decide who was allowed to try for her hand, and she decided to allow the beggar to try his luck. She instructed that he be allowed to live as any other of her suiters did while at the palace, and that he was to be cleaned and dressed as was befitting anyone who stayed there. The beggar asked if he would be allowed to wear only white. He claimed that as he had no money, he felt he was unfit to wear anything colorful. The princess made sure his wish was accommodated for.

The following morning, with nine days left until the princess’s eighteenth birthday, the princess began to allow the beggar her time. By the end of the day, the beggar got along with the princess more beautifully than any other who had been allowed to court her. The beggar was quiet, but he proved to be an excellent listener and had more patience than anyone the princess had ever met.

Three days before her birthday, the beggar asked her a question. He asked her what color her clothes were that day. Surprised, and with the familiar feeling of betrayal beginning to creep into her bones, the princess told him that they were black. The beggar smiled, and it was then that the princess realized that the beggar was blind. He said that he had been told black was a bold color and carried connotations that a person was in mourning. He said that the color suited a strong princess who refused to forget her late mother.

And it was then that the princess knew in her heart who it was she would take as her husband.

The morning of her eighteenth birthday arrived, and the princess already had her speech written and practiced to perfection. As her maids finished dressing her, word arrived that the beggar whom she had grown so fond of was nowhere to be found within the palace grounds. From what anyone could tell, he had taken nothing with him. Even the fine clothes he had been allowed to wear were all within the room he had been occupying.

Dejected and distraught, the princess decided to go before the court to make her announcement as intended. However, instead of shocking the crowd with her choice, she would be informing them all that no one had met her standards and that she would remain without a husband. She stood before them, breathed in a deep breath, and scanned the crowd as calmly and collectedly as was possible.

But then the princess’s eyes fell upon a lone, young woman, dressed in white, and standing in the back of the room.

And her heart strained and ached.

And she barely contained her sobs.

And she gave the speech she had practiced, but instead of declaring the blind beggar as the man she would take as a husband, she proudly announced that the blind _knight_ from the foreign kingdom was the one who had won her heart. She held out a hand towards the woman in white.

“Come. Give me your hand.” The princess spoke clearly, a smile and heart full of love.

The knight approached and held out her own hand, a smile matching the princess’s adorning her features. The princess took her hand, shedding tears of joy, and the to-be-wed couple embraced. The court was shocked, but the king began to applaud. The rest followed suit, and in the end everyone was just happy that their princess had chosen somebody whom she loved.

And somebody who returned that love in full.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something of interest about these two: the princess is named Michele, and the knight, her husband, is Rachele. You may recognize one or both of those names. Well, this is their true canon. Michele is a princess in eternal mourning, and Rachele is a blind knight who won her heart. I like using these two in other canons (just as I enjoy using Aurora in others) if only because theirs is so simple and small that it allows for a lot of expansion and changes. Their relationship may vary a little depending on the canon, but one thing will always remain true: they are incredibly close to one another.


	11. Askew: Part 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a warning; I've only got about another 2-3 of these I can post. Sorry to blue balls anyone who wants to see more of this. Maybe some day I'll write more!
> 
> Extra tags/warnings: nonbinary main character, fantasy

The chill that wracked Leslie’s body caused them to lose feeling in their legs, and next thing Leslie knew, they were sitting in a heap on the floor. The reaper was staring down at them, and all Leslie could do was stare back, eyes wide with revelation.

“So…everyone…all of them…even the newborn babies…they’re all doomed.” It wasn’t a question. As much as Leslie did not want to believe any of it, they knew better than to ask if the reaper was lying, especially when the reaper seemed to be taking it just as badly.

“This realm cannot survive without a Balancer. Even if that Balancer is just a babe and cannot perform the ritual, just their existence is enough to hold the realm together. Without one, the realm will fall apart, and in just a year’s time it will be unable to sustain any sort of life anymore.” The reaper looked out the window at the crescent moon. “Shortly after all life is snuffed out, everything else, too, will be snuffed out of existence. It would take less than nine days for that to happen.”

Despite knowing they should not be asking, Leslie’s voice came out before they were able to stop it. “Is there nothing I can do?”

The reaper shook its head again. “Not unless you can impregnate somebody in the next 8 minutes.”

It was Leslie’s turn to look at the floor. The two sat silently for a while, Leslie’s mind both so full it felt like it would burst, but felt so empty at the same time. None of their thoughts felt coherent, and it was all Leslie could do to not start crying. After what felt like an eternity, the reaper shifted and was once again digging around in its pockets. It found another scroll, but Leslie did not bother to try and see what it was. Wordlessly, the reaper shifted and sat properly on the sofa again. It began to write quickly on the parchment, and after a few lines its breathing became ragged. The ferocity in which it was writing finally drew Leslie’s attention and eyes.

“What are you doing?”

“Making a last-ditch effort to fix this.” Was the reply.

That alone was enough to spark some feeling of hope in Leslie’s chest, enough that they rose to their knees and drew closer to the table, peering at what the reaper was writing curiously.

“I’ve just remembered. In all the millennia I’ve been on this job, not one of us has ever had to do this. I’d nearly forgotten.” The reaper glanced down at Leslie for a split second before looking back at their writing. “In desperate times, times where if somebody’s life would truly have a positive impact upon their realm, their life may be spared. This is something truly remarkable, I hope you realize. Even the greatest of philosophers, the best of scientists, and most pure of leaders have never been allowed this pardon. This may be the first time in the recorded history of us reapers that any of us has invoked this.” They ended whatever they had been desperately scrawling with a flourish and pressed the parchment towards Leslie.

“What is it?” Leslie asked, their heart beating so hard they swore it could have meant their cause of death would have been a heart attack.

“It’s a contract. Written there is a note that I am invoking the rule I was speaking of. It would spare your life, but only for a year and a day. If you sign it, you will not die here tonight but rather on the day of your 23rd birthday. There are some catches, of course.”

“What are they?”

“The stipulation is that there must be a very good reason for invoking this rule, and there must be put forth a solution. The reason is that you have no heir, and that this realm will fall apart without a Balancer. You know that much already. So the solution is simple: you use this year’s allowance to make an heir. I don’t care if you get pregnant yourself, or knock somebody else up. As long as a baby is made by you in some way, that’s all that matters.” The reaper blinked and drew the parchment back towards itself. “Actually… We still have 6 minutes. Leslie, I would like to propose something to you.”

“If it’s having sex with me, I don’t think I could do it in that short a time.”

“You should make up your mind as to whether or not you are in a joking mood.” The reaper replied, not looking at Leslie anymore. “While I am just as equipped as you are, I have no desire to have physical relations with a mortal. No, what I meant was I have one other solution to the problem at hand and if you like, I will add it to the contract.”

“Fire away.”

“I’ll keep it brief: have you ever wondered why this realm needs a Balancer?”

Leslie blinked in confusion and gazed up at the reaper’s eyes. “No, I haven’t.”

“Of course you haven’t. I’d hazard to guess that most people in this realm have never wondered that. You’re all so used to it being a hard rule that you need a Balancer, even if you do not know the ramifications of being without one. But I am not like you. I have visited other realms. There are countless others, but I have never heard of one quite like yours where its very existence is pinned on a seemingly random bloodline. You may have never wondered why this realm needs a Balancer, but I have. I have been stationed in this realm for nearly two centuries, and every time I hear another Balancer has been reaped, I wonder why they were even needed in the first place. You see, other realms have a similar balance to them, but it happens naturally. Some realms call it ‘karma’. The way I look at it, you Balancers are just walking, talking, breathing, living karma.”

“So you want to know why my realm needs a Balancer instead of karma?”

“I suppose you could look at it that way, yes.”

“And what about that? How does that fit into the contract?”

“Let’s put it this way, if with this year you are being allotted can find the reason for the Balancer’s necessity _and_ find a way to free this realm from its reliance on them, then that too will fulfill the contract. Whether you choose to have an heir or to find the answer and solution, you will have fulfilled this contract. You will still have to die, but your realm will be safe. You have a year and a day, and that time does not get cut short if you meet either condition early. There is only one more thing I need to tell you about all of this: you are not to breathe a word about your being scheduled to die, or anything about our contract, to any living soul. Doing so will immediately make this whole thing null and void, and I will have to reap your soul immediately. Likewise, if for any reason you completely stop in your efforts to meet both conditions, I will reap your soul. Do you understand all of this?”

Leslie’s head was spinning, and they weren’t certain they had heard or even processed even half of what the reaper had just said. All they knew was that this was the ticket to both living longer as well as keeping their realm from being doomed. They had no idea how they were supposed to even begin to find the reason for the Balancers, but making an heir at the very least was something they understood. Without a second thought, Leslie nodded.

“Good.” The reaper passed the parchment back towards Leslie. “If you agree to all of this I’ll need a single drop of you blood. Anywhere on this contract is fine.”

With that, Leslie rose to their feet, barely feeling anything as they hurried to where their sword was mounted on the wall. Not even bothering to lift it, Leslie ran their right thumb over the white blade, cutting it open just enough that a large bead of blood oozed out. Carefully walking back so that it would not drip on the floor, Leslie pressed their wounded thumb to page. A brilliant red seeped into the fibers and spread until it was the size of a small coin. The reaper snatched the parchment away, stared at the spot for a moment, and then brought a gloved hand to its face.

Leslie could not see the teeth that bit the tip of the glove’s middle finger, but the glove slid right off to reveal a pale hand. It was not white like the queen’s, but rather like somebody who had never seen the sun. Each nail had been painted in swirls of dark rainbows of three or four colors. For the first time that night, Leslie noticed the scythe that had been lying on the sofa behind the reaper’s back. The reaper turned it so that the blade was no longer lying on the other seat but up in the air and ran its thumb across it to draw a bead of its own dark, almost black, blood. The reaper’s blood did not sink into the fibers of the parchment the way Leslie’s did, but rather collected in a disgusting crust in the top layers. With that, the reaper rolled the parchment up, tucked it and the quill away, and rose to its feet. It slipped its glove back on and picked up its scythe. In the moonlight, Leslie could just make out that there was some sort of feathery pattern adorning the blade.

The reaper turned to Leslie and gazed down at them and rested its scythe against its shoulder and in the crook of its arm. “Well, that’s that. You have 2 more minutes. Is there anything you want to say, or ask, or do before I head off?”

Leslie tried to consider this for a moment, their mind still in a rush with all that had just happened. After a pause, something did make itself known in the front of Leslie’s mind. Knowing it was a foolish thing to ask, they tried to anyway. After all, the worst the reaper could say was “no”.

“Since I’ve got more time now, do you want to try having sex with me?”

The reaper let out a sigh. “Don’t make me repeat myself: I have no desire to a have physical relationships with mortals. Is there anything else?”

Leslie looked down at the floor, embarrassed that they had even asked. “No, I’ve got nothing.”

“Then that’s that. I will be back to check up on your progress. Do what you can.”

The next morning, Leslie awoke with early morning sunlight streaming in through their windows. They were tucked away in bed, warm and cozy, and feeling no exhaustion as if they had not woken in the middle of the night. Leslie lie there for a moment, wondering if it had all just been a very vivid dream, but the throbbing new cut on their thumb proved otherwise. As if they could have somehow cut it on something in the bed, Leslie went to the main room and checked their sword. It had a tiny, almost unnoticeable stain on the white edge. It hadn’t been a dream at all.


	12. Carol and Coby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carol grew up in the words. One day she stumbles upon a baby dragon, and a lifelong bond is made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This week’s update is a little unusual. It’s kind of an introduction to these two characters that suddenly came to me in a dream. They don’t really have a story, so I’m not sure if I’ll write any more with them. That’s not to say that I don’t have anything more in mind that I could write but uh…well for one I don’t know if that’s necessary and for two I’m not really sure if I’m okay with writing it. =| But with that said, I hope you enjoy this kind of fluffy, long snippet about these two!
> 
> Extra tags/warnings: dragon, dragon boy, fluffy, fantasy

Carol was not lost. Despite having spent all day playing deep within the forest she knew exactly how to get home. She had grown up there, and would never lose her way no matter what. She could navigate the trees with a blindfold on…and had on a few occasions just for the fun of it. So she was not lost.

But she found something she had never seen before. Both of her parents were hunters, so not only did she know exactly how dangerous it could be to play by herself in the forest, she knew almost every single creature within it. If she hadn’t seen one alive, then she had certainly seen one dead.

It wasn’t a very big creature, only about the size of a bear cub. Its body was covered in navy blue scales that were speckled cobalt and darker spines that matched the speckling in color. It was rolling around on its back and playing with a dead bird that it had evidently caught. It managed to kick the dead bird out of its grasp with its hind legs and it flapped its large wings frantically. It rolled itself onto its feet and pounced onto its pray. It sank its teeth into the bird and it appeared that playtime was over as it began to eat the thing, feathers and bones and all. Carol watched it from a distance, fascinated with the little creature.

When the bird was gone save for a few random bits of feathers, the creature swished its tail and raised its head, looking around. Carol let out a squeak of surprise when it spotted her. It stared at her for a long moment, bright blue eyes blinking curiously. Slowly, it spread its wings out around its body. Carol recognized that sort of behavior; it was trying to make itself look bigger than it was so as to be intimidating. It worked.

Carol took a step back, not wanting to anger the creature. Small as it was, it was armed with claws and fangs that could be very painful, especially to a child. The creature took a cautious step towards her. She took another one back. It came forward again, and she moved back once more. The two stood still, not sure what to do in this situation. Suddenly the girl’s panic took over and she turned on her toes and bolted.

She knew where her home was, and ran straight for it. In her hurry she stumbled over rocks, branches, fallen logs, and general uneven ground. She didn’t dare look back, but she could hear what sounded like something chasing her. Finally her frantic state got the better of her and she tripped, falling face-first onto the forest floor. She tried to clamber back to her feet, but she was tackled from behind. She felt the weight of something small but powerful upon her back, little claws digging into her shoulders and sides and threatening to tear holes in her shirt. She whimpered and closed her eyes, frightened and prepared to feel the creature’s teeth sink into her neck for the brief moment before she died. A tear fell from her eyes and she murmured for her mommy when she felt warm breath on the back of her neck…

And then the weight on her body planted itself squarely on her back. The claws on her shoulders moved to grasp her hair and she felt that warm breath on the back of her head now. Noisy, wet chewing sounds could be heard and she felt an unusual tug on her hair. Slowly she opened her eyes and craned her neck to try and get a look at what was happening.

The little creature was happily sitting on her back and chewing on her hair.

She blinked. The creature stopped what it was doing and turned its head to look down at her. Its wings spread and flapped twice. A little trill came from the creature as it blinked at her. Carol rolled over onto her back carefully, trying not to upset the strange thing. It wriggled off of her and instead came to sit on her stomach and chest. She extended a shaking, cautious hand and the creature leaned forward to sniff it. After a moment it extended a forked tongue and licked her palm, which tickled in an odd way. Carol couldn’t help the little bubble of laughter that escaped her and she gently rubbed and scratched the creature’s head and chin. It closed its eyes, trilling again in a seemingly happy manner.

“You wanted to play, didn’t you?” Carol asked it.

The creature jerked its head back, staring at her with wide eyes now. The girl pursed her lips, wondering if it hadn’t been expecting her to make such a loud noise. She lowered her voice and spoke again.

“It’s okay. I’m not gonna hurt you.” She whispered, offering her hand to it again.

The creature cocked its head at her and glanced down at her hand. She continued to speak to it softly, and after a few moments it gently rest its head on her palm. She curled her fingertips, rubbing its neck and it closed its eyes again.

Carol giggled. “You know, you’re kinda cute.”

After a moment she made to sit up, jostling the creature from her chest. It shifted and came to sit on her lap instead. She moved her hand to pet its neck and it blinked at her again.

*****

“I’m home, Mommy!” Carol called out, opening the front door of their home and stumbling in.

“Welcome back, sweety!” her mom called from the kitchen. “Did you have fun? Come wash your hands and help me make dinner.”

“Yeah!” the little girl replied, wandering into the kitchen as she was told. “Mommy I made a friend!”

Her mother’s face contorted in confused and she turned to ask what her daughter meant and let out a shriek instead, nearly dropping the knife in her hand. The creature Carol had met out in the woods sat on its haunches at her feet, gazing up at her mother curiously.

“You… That’s…” her mother sputtered. “Carol! Where in the world did you find a _dragon_?!”

“Dragon?” the little girl asked, looking down at the creature, who in turn looked up at her. “Is that what this thing is? He’s not very big. At least, I think it’s a boy…”

“Carol, sweety, I don’t think whether it’s a boy or a girl really matters right now. Where did you find that thing and why did you bring it home?”

“He was playing out in the forest!” Carol replied truthfully. “I tried to run away from him and I fell and he tackled me. But don’t worry! I’m okay! He was just playing. I even threw a stick for him a few times and he brought it back! It was getting late though so I came back home and he followed me. He’s friendly. Can I keep him?! Puh-leeaasse?”

Her mother stared at the dragon, clearly contemplating the situation. Carol gave her mom the biggest puppy eyes she could manage, and the little dragon stared up at the girl. After a long, long moment her mother let out a heavy sigh and rubbed the bridge of her nose.

“We’ll…we’ll talk to your father about that when he gets home…” she muttered. “Now wash your hands and help me put these veggies in the pot.”

“Okay!” the little girl called out, happy that her mother was at least willing to consider the dragon.

She hurried to the sink and climbed up onto the stool in front of it. While she washed her hands, the dragon got up on his hind legs, braced his front feet on the cabinets and tried to peer over the edge of the counter to see what she was doing. He raised one of his back legs and his claws scraped against her stool like he was trying to get a good footing on it. She inched over a little and he managed to push himself up higher on the one foot.

Carol was still too young to use a knife herself, but she helped her mother make dinner by taking all of the things she cut up and added them to the large pot that their dinner would be cooked in. She even fetched a bucket full of water to add to it. When her mother brought out a large chunk of meat, the little dragon wriggled and danced back and forth on all four of his feet, staring up at her with large eyes like he was begging. A few times he even got up onto his back legs and leaned against her or the cabinets beneath the counter and whimpered. Her mother trimmed some of the fat from the cuts of meat and dropped them onto the floor, and he eat them up quickly.

“I guess he’s hungry.” Her mother observed.

“He ate a bird when I found him.” Carol told her. “It wasn’t very big though.”

“Good to know he can hunt, at least…” the woman muttered softly while she continued her work.

The rest of their dinner preparations went by smoothly enough. Several times the dragon tried to stick his head into the pot of soup, but Carol reprimanded him swiftly and he backed off after a few attempts. Eventually he laid down beside her and waited more-or-less patiently, only wiggling a little or wagging his tail every once in a while.

Just before their dinner was ready, the front door opened again.

“Daddy!” Carol shouted, making to get up and run to the entryway in order to hug him.

Her mother quickly motioned for her to stay sitting and left the kitchen to speak with him. Carol heard talking, but she couldn’t make out what was being said. All she knew was that her father had asked, “What? A _dragon_?!” and then got hushed. The little girl frowned and got to her feet. She didn’t like being left out of the loop and so she disobeyed her mother and peered around the doorway of the kitchen. The dragon followed her.

After a moment Carol’s father noticed her peeking, and he smiled down at her. “Cassy, calm down.” He told her mother. “Let me see this dragon for myself.”

The mother breathed a sigh and followed her husband into the kitchen. The little dragon was still beside Carol, and he stared up at her father with as much interest as he had in everything else so far. The man rubbed at the stubble on his chin.

“Looks like a baby to me.” He commented. “But there’s no telling how big he’s gonna get.” He turned to his wife. “Has he been a bother while you were cooking?”

The mother shook her head. “Not any more than I’d expect a dog or a cat to be.”

“And you said he had eaten a bird?”

“That’s what Carol’s told me.”

“Coby’s a good boy! He can hunt with me when I get bigger!” Carol chimed in. Her parents stared down at her, eyes wide and her mother slack-jawed.

“Coby?” Her father asked.

“Yeah! That’s what I named him just now.” She grinned brightly. “‘Cause see, his spines and speckles are all cobalt! And he matches us this way, too! Carter, Cassandra, Carol, and Coby!”

Her parents both blinked and shared a look. It was her mother whose expression softened into a smile first. A second later her dad chuckled and put a hand on his wife’s shoulder. They turned back to their daughter and the dragon that had gotten bored and was now staring at the bubbling pot of soup from a few inches back.

“I guess if you’ve named him, then that’s that.” Her father stated. “But you’ve gotta take care of him, okay? It’s your job to train him and make sure he behaves.”

“YAY!” The little girl shouted. She hurried over to her dragon and dropped down onto her knees before throwing her arms around him. Coby let out a startled grunt and toppled over, dragging Carol with him. The girl giggled happily and the dragon grabbed her head in order to chew on her hair again.

Her father glanced at his wife. “We’ve always managed to hunt more than enough food for the three of us. We’ll be fine.” He assured her. “And when that thing, Coby I suppose, gets bigger we can train him to hunt with us.”

Her mother breathed a little sigh and smiled at her husband. “Let’s just hope he doesn’t grow too big for the house.”

When their dinner was finished cooking, Carol’s mother served all four of them. Coby got his own bowl which he ate from on the floor beside Carol’s chair at the dinner table. That night the little girl brought Coby into her room to sleep with her. Sure enough after she had laid down on her bed and been tucked in by her father, Coby hopped up onto the bed with her and curled up beside her.

*****

Like all children, Carol grew up. Soon after she turned fifteen she brought it up with her parents that she wanted to leave and explore the world outside of their forest. While they were sad to see their little girl go, her parents agreed to let her. They knew the forest was no place for a growing teenager to remain and that one day their daughter would have to see the world. Like any parents, they worried for her leaving, but took solace in knowing that she was already a capable hunter. And that she had Coby by her side.

The dragon had also grown. He had eaten well under the family’s care and now was as large as a fully grown male grizzly. Carol’s mother had said that he was small for a dragon and might continue to grow for many more years, but Carol thought him to be the perfect size as he was. He was big and intimidating, but still small enough that he could fit inside a house. And since his growth had slowed up by a lot around the time Carol had gotten her first teenage growth spurts, she doubted he would become as big as her mother seemed to think.

Coby shoved his head beneath Carol’s arm and she laughed and scratched his head with both hands. “Silly boy, now is not the time for cuddles. We’re supposed to be leaving the forest and we’re only halfway out.” She told him.

The dragon didn’t understand her and only let out a contented little grunt at her affections. She gave him a little more attention before continuing their walk. Coby wandered along behind her, looking about them for anything that might catch his interest. About an hour later he suddenly hunkered down and began to creep away from Carol. The girl knew this behavior all too well and she too knelt down. It took her a moment to find what the dragon had spotted, but when she saw it she rolled her eyes and waited.

Coby stilled and watched his pray. A young bore was rooting around the bases of the trees, blissfully unaware of the large predator watching it. With a snarl, Coby shot forward and caught the pig’s neck in his powerful jaws. He dragged it to the ground and sank his fangs in deeper. The pig thrashed and squealed, trying to throw off the dragon, but Cody held it down securely until the bore stopped moving and finally died. When he released his catch Carol stood again and approached.

“Good boy, Coby!” she told him.

The dragon thrust his head into her hands and she giggled. She withdrew her handkerchief from her bag and rubbed at Coby’s mouth, wiping traces of blood from it. Coby huffed happily. When he was all clean, Carol heaved the bore up and carefully secured it to the dragon’s back. She would butcher it for them later.

As they got back on their way, the girl couldn’t help but remember the first time Coby had killed something since coming to live with her. He had been around the size of a golden retriever and hunted down a rabbit. Being his first time hunting for anyone besides himself, he didn’t yet understand that he wasn’t allowed to rip his pray apart immediately. By the time Carol caught up with him his whole muzzle was bloodied up and the rabbit torn apart and worthless to her and her family. Coby had tried to nuzzle her, but she didn’t want all that blood to get all over her dress. So she held him firmly and wiped his face clean with her apron.

Of all the things she had been trying to teach him, coming to her to get his mouth cleaned up after a kill was not one of them. So of course that was the thing he learned first and after only one instance. Carol didn’t really mind. If anything she figured it would make him easier for other people to trust if he wasn’t covered in pig blood, or whatever creature’s blood it happened to be at the time.

Around mid-afternoon Carol stopped and untied the bore from her dragon’s back. He laid down and waited patiently while she went to work skinning and cutting apart the animal. A pig the size of what he caught would last them for a couple of days if she made sure Coby didn’t eat too much. Despite her best efforts, the dragon was prone to stuffing himself too full to walk and as a result was a lot more round in the belly than he probably should be. When everything was ready and Carol was cooking her dinner’s worth of the meat, Coby was given his fair share. The dragon held the bore’s leg in his front paws and stripped the meat from the bone in a way that was almost dainty. Carol couldn’t help but smile every time she watched him eat. At least her dragon had good table manners.

Coby chewed on the bones while Carol ate. They only had an hour or so more light before the sun would be setting and the girl pondered how they were going to pass the night. She didn’t feel particularly unsafe, not with a dragon at her side, but she didn’t exactly want to fall asleep out in the open. She decided to carry on a bit more after they had finished eating. The parts of Coby’s kill that they had not eaten got wrapped up in a thick cloth and put upon his back to be carried once more.

Carol lucked out. With the last ounces of light she had stumbled upon a short cliff. It had a bit of an overhang, so she and Coby decided to take shelter beneath it for the night. The girl lit her lantern and got all of their belongings tucked up in one little spot. She then laid out her bedroll and sat upon it. Coby nestled himself beside her and closed his eyes. She withdrew from her backpack a notebook and pen. In her childhood she had drawn a bunch of pictures of herself and Coby, but as she got older that switched to keeping a bit of a journal. She wanted to document everything to do with raising her dragon. It wasn’t that she thought she would get another one day, or that her knowledge would help somebody else. It was more because there were still times when he did something and she couldn’t think of how best to handle it. She figured if she had everything written down, then she could refer to her notes and perhaps remember a method that had worked before. Of course, she still doodled him in the margins from time to time. What could she say? Her dragon was cute!

At long last she turned her lantern off and crawled into her bed. She heard Coby huff and roll onto his side at her feet. She wished him good night, to which he made a little sound in the back of his throat. It was his way of wishing her the same. The two of them drifted off to sleep.

*****

When the little girl was eleven and Coby larger than a wolf, the two had been outside playing in a river. It had been a remarkably hot summer, and the two had spent most of their free time in the water as a result. Carol had long gotten used to her dragon’s playful antics. He hadn’t quite grown out of trying to pounce on her, despite being big enough to actually hurt her. She tried her best to train him out of it, but he would still surprise her if she let her guard down.

She knelt down in the middle of the water to look at something, the current streaming passed her abdomen. Coby had been behind her, and while she was distracted he jumped at her. He managed to knock her down face-first into the water. Startled and a little panicked, Carol flailed and fought her dragon’s playful hold on her. Somehow she had managed to grab one of his forelegs and throw him off of her and she sat up quickly, coughing and gasping for breath. She turned to scold the dragon for almost hurting her when her breath caught in her throat.

Looking back on it, it was obvious that something had been…wrong. She hadn’t been able to throw Coby around for several years, he was just too big. But when she grabbed his leg and flipped him he had felt unusually light. He was still heavy, of course, but…lighter than normal.

What she saw lying in the water had not been the Coby she had known. Instead it was a boy. He didn’t look human, not at all. He had navy blue and cobalt speckled scales all along his arms and legs and up around his hips and shoulders. Upon his back were wings and a tail protruded from his backside, the little jagged spines along them all cobalt. His feet and hands too were unusual, looking much the same as the dragon’s. Many of the little horns that had been around the dragon’s face and head were still present as well, all covered in scales. Brilliant blue eyes stared up at Carol, and she shrieked.

When she got home, the first thing she told her mother was that Coby had become a boy. Her mother, who had yet to see what had happened, told her that of course he was, that he had always been a boy. Carol was quick to correct her. When her mother finally looked, she gasped and actually did drop what she was holding, which fortunately had only been a wooden spoon.

Coby was still a sort-of person and had been the whole trip back to Carol’s home. He sat awkwardly on his haunches and stared up at her mother, clearly confused as to why everyone was reacting so strangely to him. Worry was evident in his eyes and he clung to Carol’s dress, afraid that he had done something wrong and was going to be punished for it.

“Oh… Oh my goodness, he _is_ a boy!” Carol’s mother cried out, putting a hand to her chest as she took in the sight. “How…how did this happen?”

The little girl shrugged. “We were playing and he just suddenly changed. It was really embarrassing!” Carol called out.

Coby nudged her hand with his head, seeking attention from her in his distressed state. The innocent child that she was, Carol couldn’t bear to look down at him. Instead of rubbing his head and chin and face with both hands like she normally would, she awkwardly stroked the top of his head with only one hand. The change didn’t do much to calm the dragon.

“I can see why.” Her mother muttered, taking note of how completely bare the dragon’s body was. “Can he turn back?”

“I don’t know!” the girl whined. “I tried to tell him to turn back, but he got confused and thought it was some kind of game. I was hoping you could help me.”

Her mother finally picked up the spoon and cleaned it and the floor where it had fallen. While she did this, she hummed to herself and tried to think of something. Finally she snapped her fingers and suggested that Carol bring him one of her drawings. Carol got the idea and hurried to her room. When she came back, Coby had figured out how to sit on the floor like a person and was still looking as confused as before. Carol’s cheeks flared up at the sight of him, but she held herself together and knelt down in front of him.

“Coby, I need you to turn back!” she told him, thrusting the picture into his face.

The dragon leaned back, blinking at the doodle of him as a normal dragon that Carol had made just the night before. He leaned to one side to peer at her from around it and she pointed sharply at the picture with her finger.

“Turn back.” She repeated, pointing to Coby and then back to the picture.

He reached out with a hand as if to take the drawing, but she quickly pulled it back a little. He stared, still puzzled. Finally a little flash of understanding crossed his expression and the dragon reverted back to how he normally was. He immediately flopped over onto his side, as he wasn’t sitting properly any longer. Carol and her mother breathed matching sighs of relief and the little girl went about reassuring him properly. Coby’s tail thumped against the wooden floor as he finally received his head rubs and he calmed down almost immediately.

After the whole family had eaten dinner and Carol and her dragon went to her room for the night, her mother informed her father about what had happened. The man’s face twisted into a frown at the news.

“A boy, huh?” he asked.

His wife gave him a look. “I know what you’re thinking, Carter. Stop it. Coby is still her pet!”

“That may be, but he can be a boy now. And in a few years, boys their age are gonna be bad news.”

“Carter! Are you implying that our little girl would have anything to do with her pet?”

The man flinched back from his wife. “Cassy, please. I’m trying to be reasonable. I trust our daughter. I’m saying that it’s Coby we should keep an eye on. He’s an animal, but with the body of a boy who knows what he might try to do.”

Carol’s mother breathed a sigh and laid her cheek on her palm. “I don’t know if there’s anything we can really do about it. You’ve got me worried, but really what can we do? I don’t think he even realized it was a problem to change like that. We’ll just have to trust Carol to keep him trained properly.”

*****

When the first light of dawn reached the forest, Carol’s eyes reluctantly fluttered open. She closed them again and whined, still half-asleep. She made to roll over so that the light would be less of a bother, but found there to be a warm weight against her side. There was a scaly arm was draped across her stomach, an inhuman leg on top of hers, and a warm, gentle breath against her shoulder. She turned her head and was not at all surprised to see the more human form of Coby to be the one cuddled up against her. She giggled. Ever since that day she would occasionally wake up with a human-Coby using her as a body pillow.

With her free arm, she reached over and rubbed the top of his head. The dragon whined and curled in more against her. She carefully reached down under his chin until she was scratching there the way he liked. Coby’s eyes slid open and he stared blurrily up at her.

“Hi Coby~” Carol sang sweetly, ending it with a little giggle.

Coby let out a soft yowl, almost sounding like that of a cat. Along with the noise he had made before they fell asleep, it was one of the few vocalizations that weren’t quite natural ones for a dragon. It was his attempt to imitate Carol, to say “hi” back to her. She wasn’t quite sure when or why he had started doing it, as it had started before she kept a proper journal. All she knew was that it was something he had done one day in response to her greeting and that he had done it ever since.

Carol allowed him to cuddle for a few more minutes as they both came to complete wakefulness. Finally Carol cleared her throat and spoke again.

“Coby, sit.” She said simply. The dragon released her and sat upright. She kicked off her blanket and sat up as well, leaning forward to pet him. “Good boy!” she told him. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the attention.

As they ate their breakfast, Carol stared at her dragon. She wasn’t just watching the way he picked the bones clean, she was thinking.

“You know, you’re lucky we’re out here all alone now. You don’t have to worry about my parents disapproving of you eating looking like that. They never did approve of your spontaneous changes.” She told him, fully aware that he wasn’t really paying attention to her. “I don’t mind it so much, though. Not anymore. Just don’t get used to it. You’re still not allowed to run around like that when other people are nearby.” Coby looked up at her while he ate, cocking his head to one side. Carol gave him a smile and ran her eyes over his body and she huffed out a sigh. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with you, though. Even like this you’re all muscly, and yet you still have that belly!” she pointed at his stomach and he looked down at himself, not getting what she was doing at all. When he looked back up at her she sighed again. “Well, I suppose its fine for now. We’ll just cut back on your food a little and hope you burn that off soon. And if not, oh well. We tried. So long as you can still hunt and carry things it’s not that big a deal.”

Coby’s opened his mouth and sunk his sharp little fangs into his meal. He gave a short trill that told Carol he was listening and that was about it. She shook her head. Even though he looked more human, he was still just as dumb as any other pet.


	13. We Made A Promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sunflower love his brother. Really he does. That's why he does what he does. It's all to make sure his brother doesn't get hurt any more than he needs to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is...an odd one for me for many reasons. First of all, hi, I'd like you to meet the only yandere character I have ever created. Second of all, this style is not my usual one, and I have little experience with it. So I'm sorry if it sucks. I just hope that it conveys what I wanted it to. And finally, these two boys have a rather _embarrassing_ origin that I won't get in to. But I love them as characters so I've since repurposed them into their own thing.
> 
> Extra tags/warnings: possessive behavior, bullying, what could be considered abuse, incestuous thoughts/feelings

My brother brought another girl home today.

They’re in his room right now. Probably making out on his bed. I’m not worried though. He’s said many times that he’s saving himself for somebody special. And considering that I have never seen her before, like all of the others he brings home, I don’t believe her to be “special”. He’ll have whatever fun he can with her, and then she’ll get bored with him and move on. They always do.

He’s never been able to have a girlfriend for more than a couple of weeks at a time.

I make certain of that.

…

I know what you’re thinking, and no, I don’t do any of that. I would never do anything illegal, or even threaten to do so. I have no reason to. All I have ever needed to do is express my distaste for the girls who get close to him in passive-aggressive ways, and the girls eventually take the hint and go away. You know, things like never smiling at them, never talking to them, only ever glaring… Although perhaps sometimes they’re not too bright, and require some petty bullying. Knocking into them in the school hallways and making them drop their things or spill their over-priced and sugary morning “coffee” on themselves. Or tripping them as they walk by. …I used to put thumbtacks on their chairs if I happened to share a class with them, but that’s never actually worked. So I haven’t done that in a while...and by that I meant at least six months.

*****

“Sunflower, you got a minute?”

I heard him calling to me from the kitchen. My heart sings and my spirits soar whenever he calls for me like that. “Sunflower”…a nickname he gave me when we were children. I can’t remember when exactly, we were very young. But I distinctly remember him saying that my long, blonde hair was pretty and made me look like a sunflower.

I’ve kept my hair long since then. Just for him.

I don’t care if the other boys at our school think I look stupid. I ignore them when they make snide remarks telling me to get a haircut. My appearance is not for them.

Only for my brother.

*****

His girlfriend broke up with him today.

Good.

She was spending too much time with him. Practically every time I saw my brother at school, she would be glued to his arm, or his side…or his lips. She was getting too persistent.

I’ve never been so happy for the old thumbtack trick to finally work.

…My brother is crying in his room, though. He said he didn’t want to be bothered, so I won’t bother him. I understand. He’s heartbroken yet again. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t sometimes feel bad about ruining all of his relationships. I love him. Of course I empathize with his pain.

But this is for the best.

Eventually he will get hungry and come out of his room. His eyes will be red and puffy from crying. He’ll sniffle from time to time. My heart will ache to see him like that.

I’ll make his favorite meal for dinner. I’ve hidden steaks away at the back of the fridge and potatoes under the sink for just such an occasion. He’ll smile. He’ll thank me.

He’ll be reminded that no matter what, his little brother is here for him.

Always.

Forever.

*****

I suppose I should explain myself. Just a little. I’m not doing this because I hate him. Of course not. That would be horrible of me. No. Like I said; I love him. Dearly. I know that it’s wrong. He and I…we’re twins you see. Fraternal, of course. Most people don’t even know that we’re related. Our last names are different, after all.

We have different fathers.

It’s crazy, I know. Everyone says that. Everyone thinks that. But it’s true.

Our mother wasn’t the kind who slept around. She just happened to have a threesome with her two lovers one night.

And then we happened.

Even the doctor was alarmed.

But I digress…

I want to emphasize that it is not because we have always been together that I do all of this. And it isn’t because we are so alike.

In fact, we are very much not alike. We both take after our own dads, you see.

I do this because he made a promise to me when we were kids. It was after he started calling me Sunflower. Somebody was picking on me for my looks. I must say that back then I was not as strong as I am now. I started to cry. My brother, he…

He’s the most wonderful person in the world.

Not only did he beat that kid up, but he stayed with me and hugged me, and held me through my tears.

I cannot remember how or why, but he ended up making me a promise that day.

We were walking home together, hand-in-hand. I was trying not to cry some more. I think he was just trying to cheer me up, but he told me something that changed my world.

He told me…that I don’t need anyone else’s approval. Because he liked me. And that he would always be there for me, and would protect me. Always. He…

No.

 _We_ made a promise to each other.

I asked him if he would marry me.

He said I was being silly, and that we were brothers. We can’t get married.

But I didn’t care. I was too young to understand. And frankly, he was too. He thought about it after I told him that we didn’t need to _actually_ be married. We just needed to pretend that we were, and treat each other as if we were. And do you know what he said?

Yes.

He said yes!

We might have only been six or seven at the time. But he said that he would marry me, and we swore by our pinkies that we would get married when we were all grown up.

So I’m not trying to hurt him. Really I’m not. I only do what I do because he sometimes needs reminding that we’re supposed to be together. We’re supposed to marry each other. He can’t be allowed to be with other people once that happens. So why become so attached to any of those girls when he knows that one day he’ll have to give them up anyway?

All I’m doing is making sure that he doesn’t end up getting hurt more than he needs to be.

*****

He’s got a new girlfriend.

Her name’s Emma.

I used to like her. Not anymore.

She’s been in many of my classes since we were freshmen. She’s always been really nice to me. She said my hair was pretty, and has never mocked me when my brother’s accidentally called me Sunflower at school. We’ve worked together for many projects. We were partners in science class. We helped each other get caught up when we were out sick.

Out of all of the people who hang around me at school because they haven’t taken the hint that I do not like them, I could safely say that Emma was perhaps my only real _friend_.

But again, not anymore.

My brother once joked that she and I were going to end up dating.

At first I told him that he was completely wrong. That there was nothing between us, and there never would be.

The second time I reminded him that she and I were only friends.

The third time… I played along. Kind of.

I said that she was a very nice person, and if I were ever to consider anybody she was quite high on the list. It wasn’t a lie. Out of everybody my age, she was number two. Of course, that list only consisted of two people.

And she was leagues beneath the number one person on the paper I had the names written down on in my mind.

But now she’s dating my brother.

She went behind my back and became the next person to paint herself as the target of my hatred. Only this time, it feels far more personal. The only person I could ever remotely trust besides my brother has betrayed me.

I didn’t scratch her name off of my list. I ripped it so that only the small section that contains my brother’s name remains.

My brother’s apologized many times already for “taking her from me”. But he’s wrong. I’ve told him that it’s okay. That he shouldn’t be concerned for breaking my heart. That he _hasn’t_ broken my heart.

I told him all of this with a smile.

And I haven’t cried.

So I think he believes me.

And I think he finally believes that I have never had feelings for her. That I was being honest when I said I would never date her. That I am not angry with him.

But that doesn’t mean I am not angry. No.

He hasn’t taken her from me. It’s the other way around. _She_ is trying to take _him_ from me.

*****

I try to be cold to Emma in class now.

It’s harder than I thought it would be.

I’m so used to having her company that it’s second nature to be nicer to her.

But I don’t want to be. If I’m nice to her, it’s all the more reason for her to keep dating my brother. If I’m nice to her, she’ll think that I have accepted their relationship.

I may have to try the thumbtacks again…

*****

It’s been three weeks, and Emma is still dating him.

Still dating _my_ brother.

I’ve gotten better at being cruel to her. But only just.

I still work with her in class, but sometimes I give her the wrong answers on purpose. I still see her and spend time with her on breaks, but I don’t actually talk to her much anymore. We’ve got another class project we’re working on together, but I find it more difficult than usual to sabotage her efforts...

I haven’t put a thumbtack on her chair either.

…

…

…

They’re in his bedroom right now.

I can hear them through his door. This is the fourth time she’s asked him to have sex.

I’m getting scared.

*****

I want to puke!

We were eating dinner together on the couch, my brother and I. It was a quiet, peaceful evening. Or rather, as quiet and peaceful as it ever is. He was watching football. His team was playing. So he was being loud, cheering or booing or shouting, depending on what was happening. I wasn’t really paying attention. I almost never do.

I love my brother, and I should probably learn the basics of all of his interests. And for the most part I have. But football will probably be the one thing I will never understand. Still, I will at least sit with him while he watches.

He got weirdly quiet, and I started to think that he was thinking about something.

He was.

He muted the TV and called me, (“Hey, Sunflower…?”) and I again felt my heart beat loudly in my chest. That nickname…!

But then my stomach dropped.

He hadn’t been looking at me, but he _had_ been smiling when he said that he was thinking about having sex with Emma. He said again, for the thousandth time, that he wanted to save himself for somebody special…but that he thought maybe Emma was that somebody. She was pretty. She was sweet. She was smart. She liked football. And most importantly, she was a person that we both got along well with. He doesn’t think he’ll regret sleeping with her.

I… I didn’t know what to say to him.

I only told him to do what he wanted.

I’m sure I said it in a nasty way, because he looked confused.

And he unmuted the TV and didn’t speak to me again until we said good night to each other before going to bed.

…

…

…

This is stupid of me, but…

A part of me wonders if maybe he wanted me to stop him…

*****

Emma hasn’t broken up with him yet.

It’s been a month, and by some luck they still haven’t had sex yet.

Next week is our birthday. We’ll be eighteen.

She’s going to be out of town.

…

I cannot wait for the two of us to finally be of legal age…

I hope George will like my gift.


End file.
